WHY I WAS LATE

I read Femke’s article on mediocrity in Nigeria this morning http://saharareporters.com/article/femke-becomes-funke-celebrating-mediocrity-nigeria-femke-van-zeijl?page=3&nocache=1 and it reminded me many experiences where I have come face to face with flagrant display of mediocrity with impunity. We have much of it in the work places. A colleague that doesn’t know the job is being promoted because he or she licks the boss’ ass. People get jobs into MDAs because of their relationship with one numb skulled politician while the good brains lavish in abject unemployment (Sorry not unemployment but underemployment). I have always argued that there is no unemployment in Nigeria but under employment. Okay, let’s leave that for my next article. What was I even talking about? MEDIOCRITY!

I was in one of the MDAs in Enugu state sometime last month. I was surprised at how the entire place has changed; flashy cars everywhere. I couldn’t help but wonder: “so these people are paid so much that they can afford this kind of luxury?” Right then I switched on to marketing mode. If I can get them to open savings account with my bank that would be a big plus for my performance. At least somebody that drives and Infinity Jeep should have nothing less than N1,000,000 in savings and there were many of them there. I entered one of the offices that looked like a passage way. I was first greeted by the cold air wafting from the air conditioners. Tables lined the left and right flanks up to the wall at the extreme. There were over twenty people in the office (or should I call it a hall). Some of them were sleeping. A few faced themselves gossiping. One was peeling melon seeds on the table and another beside her was knitting something with beads .Only the table at the extreme had a computer on it and the first table near the door had a file with papers on top of it. I greeted them and they jerked. The one sleeping near the door brought up his head and some mucilage of saliva lolled up from his lips to the table. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and sighed, looked up at me disgustedly with red eyes and bent back to his table. I introduced myself and my bank’s products. They just looked at me like I spoke Spanish to an Efik tribe. The ones gossiping turned back to their gossips. Then the one operating a system at the extreme called me.  After some chit chats he collected an account opening pack from me and told me things about every other person in the hall in a very low town. “They don’t work and nobody can say anything about that unless you are tired of this job. They are all families and cronies of highly placed politicians”. It was only then that I understood how the cars came about. But frankly speaking, I would like to get an appointment in such a place so that I can have enough time for more studies and to polish my writing skills. Who no like awuf? (Laughs)

Talking about mediocrity; I wonder if they do train these Road Safety guys at all. I love their uniform no doubt. They look smart. But let me tell you an experience. Frankly speaking, I am always late for field service so I made a resolution last week to always attend meetings for field service. Last Saturday I was late again, so I had to rush (at least, let me not miss the prayer). Though I was rushing, I didn’t drive rough; I only cut off some roads that are usually prone to traffic congestion. At the one way bypass of collage road that led to Kenyatta by Robinson Street Uwani, I met some men in brown and red uniform; a blue road safety van with the white stripes like zebra crossing was packed by the right side of the road. One of them matched into the middle of the road and raised his right hand with opened palm stopping me. His left hand waved me to pullover.

“Clear well” he said.

I drove very close to him like I was not going to stop. Then I stopped.

“off your ignition” he said with face stone frowned.

“Who taught you that you have such right? To order me to switch of the ignition of my own car?” I asked and giggled in sheer ridicule.

“Come; if you don’t say what you want I will drive off” I added and frowned too.

“Where is your driver’s license?”

“Here.” I showed him the fake license one of them did for me a year ago.

“Give it to me” he said and trusted out his crooked hand to collect my license. I laughed out very laud and said:

“Why? Are you looking for your own? Guy you can’t be serious; why should I give you my license? What makes you think you can just order me to give you my license! My own license! You must be stupid! Do they even train you people at all? You just jump into the middle of the road and stop a moving vehicle that didn’t commit any crime; that didn’t go against any traffic laws! Do you just stop vehicles or are you mad! Okay I am driving out of here and if you dear block me, I promise you are gonna wake on an orthopedic bed.” I barked and pulled the gear stick to drive. One other Road Safety guy made to enter the passenger side of my car and I turned swiftly at him:

“If you dear come inside my car…” the words hung and my jaw dropped as I remembered I was going out to preach and also recalled what Chinenye said sometime about having the mind of Christ; then I asked myself “what would Christ do in this situation?’ I pushed the gear stick back to Pack and came down from the car.

“ehen? What do you want?” I asked looking him straight in the eyes.

“Let me see your fire extinguisher”

I opened the boot without words and showed him the small fire extinguisher I bought second hand from a friend that wanted to sell his car last year. He grabbed it and checked something at the top; maybe the expiry date and gave it back to me.

“Let me see your caution triangle”

I showed him. He opened the spare tyre under the rug in the boot. He didn’t notice that it is not even the same rim size with the other tyres on the car and he closed it back. He touched the wheel spanner and the Jack and the side mirrors. I just stood aside and watched him display his inefficiency.

“Match the break”

I did and my break lights flashed.

“The horn”

I did.

Then I stuck out my head from the window and said; “are you satisfied?” He didn’t say a word but waved me off like a disgusting house fly and I turned to the one sitting on my passenger side;

“Now get off my car.” I said and he smiled. I could see the shame on his face. His eye brows that curled down said he felt humiliated. He sighed and opened the door slowly.

“Come you people should learn to do this your job well. You don’t just stop people to check their cars and waste their time when they didn’t commit any traffic error.” I said gentle to none of them and sped off.  When I got to the field service meeting point, they had already started pairing. I just tip-toed into the house and sat quietly.

 

 

 

 

Pleaseoooo this is a mixture of fiction and true life story. In short it is fact-tion! http://saharareporters.com/article/femke-becomes-funke-celebrating-mediocrity-nigeria-femke-van-zeijl?page=3&nocache=1